The Dark Knight
by Navar Darkblade
Summary: [COMPLETE] Batman must catch a psychotic killer. But how will he cope with another crime boss coming onto the scene, and new weapons being dealt to thugs by an eccentric little man? R&R please!
1. Joker's Heist

The Dark Knight

A/N: My take on how the new Batman movie should go. I posted it once, but it was VERY short spurt of inspiration, and now I think I've got it, plus I made it darker. WARNING this is VERY dark, if you do not wish to read about demented lunatics killing people for NO REASON do not read this fic.

Disclaimer: I do not (unfortunately) own the Batman franchise or anything associated with it, that DID belong to Bob Kane, God bless him, and now belongs to his family, DC Comics, and Warner Brothers.

Gotham City Bank – 12:15 PM

A dark purple van was parked outside of the bank 4 people sat inside. It was dark inside. The only light came from two windows on the exit door

"Alright gents, lets just recap everything," one of them began. He moved to crouch in front of the door blocking what little light there was. "We go in, shoot a bystander, then we move to the teller and I'll… persuade him to give him some cash," he grinned, an evil grin that belonged on a demon. "And gents, put a smile on," he cackled maniacally and opened the door.

His features were illuminated, black-green hair, his skin was ghostly white, his mouth decaying, visible because he was grinning, and he wore a purple suit with a green tie, He dropped the smile and followed his goons into the bank. He pulled out his hand-gun and shot down a woman, her son cried "MOMMY!" and knelt down beside her, crying. The lunatic chuckled and walked up to a teller, twirling his gun as he went.

"Pardon me sir, but can I get a withdrawal please?"

The teller was shaking and his throat was dry. "A-a-absolutely sir… h-h-how m-m-much will you be n-needing?"

"Oh just fill up these bags with the bills of the HIGHEST amount you can find back there," the maniac handed the teller two bags, comically, decorated with dollar signs, he laughed again.

"Don'tcha just LOVE it boys? We can have WHATEVER we want, and the only thing standing in our way, is pathetic little citizens like that one!" he lazily pointed his gun at the woman dead on the ground, her son covering her body and crying. Everyone else in the bank was paralyzed in fear.

The teller returned and handed the murderer his money.

"Why thank you sir, oh and please, smile for me,"

The teller complied, not wanting to give this madman any reason to kill him.

"Thanks very much, I like my victims to go out with a grin on their faces," and with that, he shot the teller. "Ladies and Gents, I'd like to introduce myself!" he took a deck of cards out of his pocket, selected the joker, and tossed it at the dead mother. "I am… The Joker!" with that, he cackled again and began to walk outside toward his van

A/N – There you go, end of the prologue… What do you think? PLEASE review! Feedback is the fuel that feeds the fire of this story!


	2. Gotham's New District Attorney

Navar

The Dark Knight

A/N: Sorry about my first chapter being so short, more of a pre-title sequence than anything else.

Disclaimer: Batman and all of its characters belong to DC and Warner Brothers, and unfortunately I am not the head of either corporation so I don't own any of this.

A New D.A. in Gotham

Gotham City: An hour after the bank robbery

Bruce Wayne sat in the back of his Rolls Royce gazing out the window at the city of which he had become guardian. Alfred had the radio tuned to Gotham News.

"_And in other news, Harvey Dent, has taken office as Gotham City's D.A., in an interview today, he had this to say:_

_"Our city has been smothered in crime for too long. My fellow citizens, we must work together to clear our streets through almost any means necessary,"_

_"Mr. Dent! Can you confirm the rumors of a Bat-Man soaring in the night sky?"_

_"Yes, there is a Batman; he saved our city from the fear-gas. With suggestion from Lieutenant James Gordon we have customized this spotlight, so that if we need him again, we can call him," _

_"The spotlight, referred to by Mr. Dent was changed to have the symbol of a bat blocking the path of the light, so that it forms some sort of a beacon, we're going to have a word from our sponsors, and then we'll get you back to Gotham News,"_

"It would seem as though you have made quite an impression on our city Master Wayne,"

"It seems so Alfred," said the billionaire.

"We're here, sir" said the butler. Bruce looked out his window on the opposite side, Wayne Tower.

"Thanks Alfred, I'll be back out in a minute, just circle the tower a couple times,"

"Will do, sir,"

Bruce got out of the car and walked into the building. He took the elevator up to the top floor.

"Hi, I'm here to see Mr. Fox," he said to the blonde, young secretary.

"Ah yes, Mister Wayne. He's right in there, please wait a moment,"

"That won't be necessary Ms. Kyle," said a new voice. Lucius Fox stood outside his office door. "Nice to see you again Bruce, sorry about your house,"

"That's okay Fox; I was planning some renovations anyways,"

Fox smiled. "Come on in," Bruce followed Fox into his office and had a seat. "Uh, Ms. Kyle?"

"Yes Mr. Fox?"

"If anyone calls, I'm in a meeting,"

"Yes sir," Fox shut the door and sat at his desk.

"What happened to… what's-her-name?"

"Jessica? She moved to Washington D.C. Got offered a job as a secretary for someone in the Pentagon I think, or so she says. So I hired Ms. Selena Kyle, good credentials, and she needed a solid start in this city,"

"So, why did you ask me here Mr. Fox?"

"Well, I thought that you might like to know that we have enough of the cure to administer to everyone in Gotham,"

"Including the Narrows?"

"Bruce, the Narrows is gone, the bridge from there to Gotham is scheduled to be destroyed,"

"Destroyed?"

"Yep, which brings me to the second reason I asked you here today,"

"Second reason?"

"I wanted to show you a boat that we developed for scout missions, stealth boat, undetectable by radar,"

"Give me a sec," Bruce took out his cell phone and called the car phone.

"Hello?" answered Alfred's voice.

"Alfred, I'm going to be a bit longer than expected, Fox is going to show me a new toy,"

"Right sir, shall I just park the Rolls in the garage across the street?"

"Go ahead Alfred, and be careful,"

"I will sir," and with that Alfred hung up.

"Now, about this boat. . ."

The Police Station: That night

The bat-signal lit up the night sky and Jim Gordon stood beside it, waiting. He looked over the edge for the… tank, but didn't see it anywhere. A tapping noise came from the signal, and Gordon swung around.

"Nice," Batman acknowledged.

"I couldn't find any mob bosses," Gordon said with a grin. He turned it off.

"Well, Sergeant?"

"Oh it's Lieutenant now, you really started something. Bent cops running scared, hope on the streets,"

"But?"

"The Narrows is lost, and we still haven't picked up Crane or half the inmates of Arkham that he freed,"

"We will, we CAN bring Gotham back,"

"What about escalation?"

"Escalation?"

"We start carrying semi-automatics; they buy automatics. We start wearing Kevlar; they buy armor piercing rounds,"

"And…"

"And you're wearing a mask, jumping off rooftops. Take this guy, armed robbery, double-homicide, got a taste for the theatrical like you, leaves a calling card,"

He handed Batman probably the most important piece of evidence recovered from the crime scene, the Joker card.

"I'll look into it," the Dark Knight turned to leave.

"I never said thank you," Gordon called to his retreating back.

Batman turned to look at him. "And you'll never have to," with that he jumped off the roof and glided to his car.

'I sure hope we're right about this guy,' Gordon thought as he went back into the building.

The Bat-Cave: The Next Day

"Alfred I need all the information that you can legitimately get on any crimes where a joker card was found at the scene,"

"Will do, sir. Fox just called about that super-computer you asked for, he said he'll have it shipped over here before 3 o' clock,"

"Thanks Alfred,"

"You're quite welcome, Master Bruce,"

Bruce resumed work on routing a power source into his soon-to-be computer area. About an hour later Alfred returned with a manila folder and placed it on the table.

"The information you requested, sir,"

"Thank you Alfred,"

"Might I suggest you take extra care with this one sir? He sounds a lot more dangerous than Mr. Crane,"

"I'll take that into consideration," With a nod, Alfred went back up the elevator to check on the repairs. Bruce began to pore into the folder, trying to find out who the newest enemy of Gotham was.

Meanwhile, at the docks:

A cargo freighter pulled into dock 3 and several men in leather jackets and torn gloves began unloading boxes with the name COBBLEPOT stamped into the side. . .

A/N: There you are, Dent, Kyle, and Cobblepot introduced. R&R please. Just so you know, Catwoman is NOT planned to be featured in this fic, just planted as a seed to a possible sequel. Maybe other villains will join the mix at some point… suggestions?


	3. A Joker with Dynamite

Navar

The Dark Knight

A/N: I hope my story is being received well.

To Panda Pen Palace: I apologize for any confusion my story is bringing, a tad bit of clarification: This is the way I think the Batman Begins Sequel should go, so the chain of events is: Harvey Dent has taken over as D.A. because the other guy got shot in Begins; the cure that Fox was referring to was the cure for the fear gas; when Fox said "The Narrows is gone" that meant the same thing as Gordon's remark meant at the end of Begins, and as such, the mayor has authorized the destruction of the bridge into the Narrows, so Batman needs a means of transportation to get there. Any other questions I can answer for you? Please let me know, and I'd love to read your fic, but an anonymous review won't help me do it. In your next review maybe include the title?

To Bubble Buddy: Thanks very much for the compliment! This fic is supposed to be creepy as the movie will probably be just that… yes I've seen the Joker make-up, and it made me anxious to see what Christopher Nolan does with Gotham's Clown Prince of Crime.

Anyways, ON WITH THE STORY!

A Joker With TNT

The Bat Cave: 8:00 PM

"Well Alfred, from what I've read, you were right, he IS a lot more dangerous than Crane was. Apart from the armed robbery with double homicide Gordon told me about, he's had multiple homicide and theft records. He's apparently new to Gotham, and has moved in some sort of pattern across New York. Now, I'd think he were a normal criminal, except for this, the homicides are all unprovoked. I think were dealing with a lunatic Alfred," Bruce deducted, as he closed the folder and tossed it onto the desk

"Quite so, sir. The new supercomputer has just arrived,"

"Good, I'll bring it down tomorrow. That will definitely help me catch this killer,"

"Master Wayne, if I may suggest we finish rebuilding the house before continuing on this endeavor,"

"No Alfred, he's a homicidal maniac and Batman needs to catch him as soon as possible for the police. So I can't just leave him out there,"

"Understood sir, just do be careful,"

"I will Alfred," Bruce went to the cabinet he kept the Bat-suit in, and took on the persona of Batman.

The Narrows

Chaos. The only word that can describe the state the Narrows was in. Brothers shooting each other in the streets, parents beating their children with no provocation, all around chaos. Very few men could walk the streets of the Narrows and survive, Jack Napier was one of them. He was the Joker, without the make-up. He strolled down the main road, chuckling and smirking at the disgusting violence around him. He walked to the bridge that was currently raised.

"Oh dear, the Gotham police want to ruin my fun. Well no matter, their explosives won't be set up for another week, and that gives me enough time to plant some of my own," He cackled.

Gotham City Streets

Batman had stopped four robberies during his rounds of the evening, none of them matching the descriptions of any of the past crimes of the man with the joker cards. He decided to pay a visit to Gotham's law offices.

Gotham City: The D.A.'s Office

Harvey Dent sat at his desk, finally having finished all of the paperwork required. He had the files open on Carmine Falcone, Jonathan Crane, and the rest of the scum of Gotham City.

"Okay, let the cleansing of Gotham begin," he said, he pushed Falcone's folder away, knowing he was in Arkham, out of the way. A breeze came through his office window, a wall-sized window leading out onto a deck, he closed it and sat back down at his desk.

"Evening Harvey, how's the war going?"

"BATMAN! You gave me a startle there. Uh, I suppose it's going fine, this serial killer has got me puzzled though,"

"Have you seen his record from other states?"

"Oh yeah, this guy's gonna be a handful,"

"I got a very minimal police file on him and I wanted to know if you could give me anymore data,"

"Well, here's ALL of the info on him from the other DA offices, you can have them, they're saved on my computer,"

"Thanks,"

"No problem, just help us bring this guy in OK?" he was looking at his computer when he said it, there was no reply. "Batman?" he called, but the caped crusader was gone.


	4. Killer PunchLine

Navar

A/N: Sorry about my absence, there's been a lot going on. Here's chapter 4!

Killer Punch-line

The BatCave

Batman loaded all of the information that Harvey Dent gave him into his supercomputer. It wasn't much more than he already had, except for an expert's opinion of his psychological profile. Apparently, this guy liked his victims smiling, like some kind of twisted comedian. There was also a lack of gang involvement. Nothing that would suggest he ever took orders from anybody. This guy killed for the rush of it, not the money. Batman sat in thought, trying to figure out how to find this madman.

The Narrows: Joker's Hideout

Joker was overseeing his thugs setting up his plan. A bomb to take down the Police building, but just having a bomb wouldn't be any fun… he had to give the citizens of Gotham a fighting chance. He looked away from the screens that showed him what his underlings were doing, and into the video camera. He gave his right hand man a signal, and immediately, every channel broadcast into Gotham City, was interrupted by a comical bulletin…

"Good evening, Gothamites. My name is Joker. I have interrupted your news, reality TV, music videos, and even your cartoons to tell you something, funny. When I was walking to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives, each wife had seven sacks, and in each sack were seven BATS. Yes Gotham, I'm talking to your so called 'savior' Batman. If you're listening Batsy, I've got a bit of a challenge for you, I'm going to tell a joke, and its up to you to guess the punch-line, and to save Gotham from a bomb. Now, here it goes! What is over-paid, bent, and has no pulse?!" he cackled, "You have thirty minutes to disarm the bomb Batbrain, if you do, Gotham doesn't lose millions of lives to an explosion, if you don't, it's just the opposite. HAVE FUN!" With that he signed off.

The Tumbler

Batman raced towards the streets of Gotham. A two-year-old could have figured out the punch-line to that joke, which to Batman seemed more like a riddle. The bomb was at the Police Department, and, sure enough, when Batman got there, the bomb squad was already inside. He got out of the Tumbler and talked to Gordon.

"Did they find it?"

"No, they're working on it, but they only have 20 minutes left and they still have to disarm it,"

"Why would Joker make a joke about a Gotham Police-man with no pulse?"

"Beats me, Batman,"

"What's considered to be the heart of the Police station?"

"The power grid, why?"

"Tell the bomb squad to look there, I can't disarm bombs, but I sure can find this maniac,"

"Okay, we'll give it a shot, good luck," He called to Batman's retreating back.

The Power Grid of Gotham City Police Station

Batman was right, the bomb was in the Police Department's power grid room, and the bomb squad had just finished disarming it. A television screen went on and Joker was sitting at a desk.

"Congratulations Bat-boy, you figured it out!" Apparently he couldn't see the bomb squad. "But unfortunately, like every good hero, you only wound up sacrificing your own life to save Gotham, and now, there's no one to stop me! Good-bye Batman!" And with that the screen went off, the doors shut themselves and were locked, and the room was filled with nerve gas. Just like the Joker wanted, his victims all died, with smiles forced onto their faces.


	5. Unwelcome Reunion

Navar

A/N: Thank you FalconHorror! I figure the Joker needs to be darker while still maintaining his comedian profile! As for Cobblepot, that is the last name of The Penguin. I'll try to add more detail with some of these newer chapters, hopefully it will make the story more fun to read.

Anyways… ON WITH BATMAN!

Unwelcome Reunion

Joker's Hideout

"Well, now that the Bat is good and dead, I suppose we can continue on with our plans, Mr. Cobblepot, please do come in!"

A short, fat man in a tuxedo and top-hat walked in using an umbrella as a walking stick. He took a seat next to Joker's desk.

"What can I do for you my fishy little fellow?" He chuckled at his joke.

"You still haven't paid me for the shipment, and I am not a very patient man,"

"Oh come on, don't be in such a FOWL mood," He cackled at the pun, "It's sitting over there in a briefcase Penguin-man!"

Cobblepot waddled over to the briefcase and picked it up, it felt heavy. He brought it back to the Joker's desk, and Joker handed him the keys. He opened it.

"MONOPOLY MONEY?! What the HELL is this you CLOWN?!"

Joker began to shriek with laughter and banged his desk with a fist.

"You are so gullible Mr. Cobblepot! Of course I don't have all of your money yet, I need to rob a few more banks," he grew serious, "But to do that I need your toys,"

"I'll provide half the shipment, for half the payment,"

"Well, I suppose that could work, do we have a deal?" Joker held out his hand to shake. Cobblepot grabbed it but before they could shake, a jolt was sent through his arm. Joker had a buzzer on. Joker was rolling on the floor in uncontrollable laughter.

"Stupid clown," Cobblepot muttered and walked out of the office.

The Narrows

Batman was stumped, with no way to find the Joker maniac he had nothing, except of course catching the killers of Gotham City's rat-hole. He patrolled the Narrows, catching any escaped convicts he could. He finally ran into the target that he had been watching for, Crane. He was riding his horse, creating even more havoc in the fear plagued streets. He fitted a gas mask to his face and glided down to block his path.

"Crane!"

"How many times do I have to tell you people, the name is Scarecrow! Master of fear! The sole nightmare that every single person in this Hell-hole shares, Batman!"

"I don't care if you're the guy from the Wizard of Oz, Crane. I'm taking you in!"

"Oh really, well have a taste of fear!" He held his wrist out and pressed the button. Gas shot in Batman's face but he didn't move. "That's IMPOSSIBLE!" Crane shrieked. Batman punched him in the face and took him away, to the Gotham City jail.

Gotham Jail

Batman had arrived an hour earlier carrying Crane in with him. The guard had reported Crane yelling something about a Joker, so Gordon had him in an interrogation room.

"What do you know about the Joker, Crane?"

"I'll only answer to my real name," he claimed

"Fine, Scarecrow, same question,"

"I only know that he's the only man in the Narrows that isn't afraid. He finds the whole situation COMICAL Mr. Gordon,"

"What do you mean?"

"He roams the streets and alleys, laughing at all the violence, causing some of it, ending some of it. He is really enjoying it,"

"So he isn't affected by the gas?"

"No, he's been affected Mr. Gordon, just not like the rest of us,"

"I have to ask, Scarecrow, how are you so normal sitting here talking to me,"

"I suppose you could say it didn't have quite the same effect on me either. Sure I have more aggressive tendencies, and I enjoy watching the chaos, but I still keep a rational part of my brain. Fear really is a beautiful thing you know. Anyways, I am having a very strong urge to attack you right now, but seeing as how you have me in a little straightjacket here, I can't really do that can I?"

"Whatever, is there anything else you know about the Joker?"

"Only that he's going to destroy Gotham's mainland, and make it his playground…"

A/N: There you go FalconHorror, a bit of Crane! Please R&R!


	6. Allegiances Formed

Navar

A/N: To FalconHorror: Glad you liked it!

Allegiances Formed

Bruce Wayne was going to meet Rachel Dawes for dinner at the Bistro Gotham. He had told Rachel that if she wanted to go somewhere nicer he wouldn't mind paying for it, but she said she would like to avoid the rich spots. He got out of the limo and smiled to Alfred and thanked him for driving.

"You're quite welcome sir! Just make sure that after your dinner, I'm driving two people rather than one,"

"I'll try Alfred," Bruce replied. And with that Alfred drove away. Bruce walked into the restaurant. "Hi, there should be a table reserved for two under Wayne,"

"Yes Mr. Wayne. Your friend, Ms. Dawes is already seated," said the waiter, and he escorted Bruce to the table.

"Sorry I'm late Rachel, traffic,"

"No Bruce, I was early. How's Wayne Enterprises doing?" she already had a glass of wine.

"Pretty good actually, Fox is handling things nicely," he signaled to the bartender to give him the same thing that Rachel had. He then actually looked at her for the first time. He wore a suit, while Rachel was in a sweater and jeans. Bruce got a feeling that she didn't have the same intentions as him for this dinner, meaning a date. "Rachel, is this a date?"

"Bruce I thought we cleared this up already. As long as… you-know-who is around, I can't do it,"

Bruce was about to retort when the news caught his attention.

"Five members of Gotham City's Bomb Squad were killed last night in a freak accident, all of them with a smile carved on their faces. Lieutenant James Gordon informed us that this is the Joker's doing, the Joker being the one who interrupted every single broadcast last night. He also stated that this gruesome death was intended for Batman, who has just recently saved our city from the fear gas. Gotham is beginning to wonder, is Batman more trouble than he's worth? In other news Salvatore Maroni just arrived in Gotham…"

"Bruce?"

"I need to go,"

Joker's Hideout

"You mean I went through all that trouble, and I don't even nail the BAT?!" Joker screamed, he shot his television. "Oh well, now I get to have more fun with Bat-Breath," A man walked through his door. He was in his late forties to early fifties, and he walked with a cane. "Can I help you?" Joker asked

"No, but I can help you," the man replied. He had a smooth voice.

"Oh really? How is that?" A grin broke out on his face, ear to ear.

"I know who Batman is," he said, and he walked into the light. Ra's Al Ghul was still alive.

Gotham Police Headquarters

The Bat-signal lit up the night sky once again.

"Your Bat-friend is taking a long time to show up Gordon,"

"Harvey, relax. He's your friend too isn't he? He'll show,"

"As far as I'm concerned, when someone commits murder, they're not a friend anymore,"

"Murder? What are you talking about?"

"Those members of the bomb squad died because Batman sent them to the exact spot to trigger the trap, he's responsible for 5 deaths, he's a murderer!"

"He didn't know about the trap Harvey, and if he hadn't sent them to the grid to disarm the bomb, everyone within a half a mile's radius would have either died or been severely injured. So back off of Batman, he's a hero, not a villain,"

"He's still taking a long time to get here,"

"Sorry about that, I didn't realize five minutes was a long time Mr. Dent," said a rough voice, Harvey turned around. Batman had arrived. "What's going on Lieutenant?"

"This Joker fellow is too much for the police to handle alone, Batman. To add on to it, Maroni just got to town and the rumor is he's here to take up the vacated mob boss position. We need your help Batman," Gordon said.

"I don't understand, Gordon. I was already on the Joker case because you asked me, why did you need to call me up here?"

"To let you know about Maroni for one thing, and to get Harvey in on this too. Also, we thought you might need to know what Crane told us,"

"But first thing's first Batman," Harvey interrupted, "Are you with us, or against us?" He put his hand out face down and surveyed Batman's face intently. Gordon put his hand over Harvey's. Batman hesitated, he didn't want to swear to Gordon and Dent he could put a stop to the Clown's reign of terror, but he didn't want them as enemies either. He put his hand on top of theirs.

"Let's catch a Joker," he said.

The Subway

Rachel sat deep in thought. She wanted desperately to be closer to Bruce, but she couldn't do it, because he wasn't Bruce, he was Batman.

"Something troubling you my dear?"

She looked up. A man who looked in his late forties stood over her. He had two white strips of hair for a beard, they grew past his chin. He was holding a cane.

"No, not really,"

"Well then, let me introduce something troubling then," he held a towel over her face, it had a sleeping draught in it. She passed out. The enemy had just kidnapped Rachel Dawes.

A/N: Please R&R, feedback helps!


	7. Fowl Play

Navar

A/N: Once again, to FalconHorror: I'm sorry the chapters aren't very long, there's probably a lot more room for elaboration, I'm just not very good at that, I will try my hardest on this chapter! Oh and BTW… Maroni is one of the crime bosses that came into power during the comics.

Fowl Play

The Rooftop of Gotham Police Department

There they stood, cop, District Attorney, and vigilante. All bound by a promise to stop a madman. Batman didn't like the fact that he had just promised something that he might not be able to deliver, but what was done, was done. He looked at Dent. He looked different from the man who stood before reporters, making his promises only a couple of weeks before. The job had already taken its toll. He was ruffled and he had a mad gleam in his eyes, close to insanity. The area under his eyes was all in shadow. Batman couldn't trust him very much, but he had to work with him, so he decided put all doubts to the side… for now.

"So, what information did Crane give you?" he asked. He surveyed his two allies carefully.

"Well," Gordon said, "he told us that the Joker was affected by the fear gas in a way that is different than the rest of the Narrows. To him it acted as sort of a twisted laughing gas that causes him to think violent actions are funny. He doesn't care about the law, and he's intent on making Gotham his amusement park,"

The air around them was silent for a moment. Batman was deep in thought.

'Why did the gas act this way on the Joker? Why did it make him a violent, comical serial killer?' He asked himself, 'And where the Hell is he hiding? Well, I have one up on him. He thinks I'm dead,'

"Did Crane give any details about how Joker was going to do this?"

"No, but he kept telling us that the Joker said it was going to be 'comedic genius'. Any ideas Batman?"

"Maybe… What's the situation on Maroni?"

Dent was the one to answer this time, "He just came from Italy. He was there indefinitely, visiting family. He left Falcone in charge. I'm guessing that since things went sour, he wants to take up his line of work again,"

"Can you arrest him?" Batman asked, hopeful for an easy answer, but he knew if Gordon and Dent were telling him about it, there wouldn't be one.

"No," Gordon replied, "The case on him was closed shortly after I started work in Gotham PD,"

"So what do I need to do?" Batman asked.

"Nothing really, just keep an eye out, and if there's a growth spurt of crime in Gotham, we wanted you to know who the boss was, so that you could maybe trace it back to him," Dent said.

"Understood, anything else?"

"Yes, were you aware that the bridge into the Narrows is scheduled to be destroyed?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Were you also aware that recently, a decision was made to not blow it up by the mayor?"

"What?"

"That's not all of it either, the day after the announcement was made that the bridge would stay standing, our fine mayor got a new Aston Martin DB9," Dent said with a hint of venom in his tone.

"I think it's time I paid the Mayor a little visit," said Batman, and he left the two, gliding to his tank which the papers had dubbed, The Batmobile.

The Mayor's Office

Mayor Robert Johnson, in his late forties, was hosting a party at his office building to raise spirits for the upcoming election. Everyone was there, except his new District Attorney, Lieutenant Gordon, and Bruce Wayne.

He was five foot nine, and weighed about 230 pounds. The light-brown hair on top of his head was thinning. He used canes when he walked, not because of injury or medical issue, but because he liked them.

"Yes, I will be sure to take care of that," he called to someone across the room, "I'll be right back, I have to grab something,"

He walked into his office to get a smoke in. His wife disapproved and so he told her he had kicked the habit. He grabbed a cigar, and went to open the balcony doors. He opened them, stepped out onto the balcony, and realized he didn't have any matches. He turned around, went to his desk, and grabbed some.

When he turned again to go back to the balcony, a tall, dark figure obscured his way. He fell over his desk trying to back away.

"Who are you?!" he screamed at the figure.

"I'm Batman,"

"What are you doing barging into my office like that?! That's breaking and entering!"

"The door was wide open, Mayor," he walked closer to Mayor Johnson. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed the mayor's suit-jacket and picked him up. "Who paid you to keep the bridge to the Narrows standing?" he growled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, that decis-aaaaaaaaaah!"

Batman had rammed him against a bookcase.

"That's not good enough Mayor. Who paid you?!"

"I'm telling you I wasn't paid!" he yelled back. "Who do you think you are?! I am the Mayor of Gotham City. You don't have any idea what you're doing to your reputation right now!"

"My reputation doesn't matter much, but I can leak an anonymous tip that our Mayor is taking bribes! Now WHO PAID YOU?!"

"A short, fat man in a tuxedo, said his contact didn't want the bridge going down, because it would stop his 'fun',"

"A name, Mr. Mayor?"

"Cobblepot, Oswald Cobblepot," he breathed, giving up completely. Batman threw him to the floor and left the building. He needed to run a search on Cobblepot and catch him. Fast.

The Bat-Cave

Batman sat at his computer. His determination kept him from taking the suit off, even though it was 3 AM. If he could just find Cobblepot, he would have a link to catching the Joker.

He had found a record on Cobblepot. Oswald "The Penguin" Cobblepot. The FBI classified him as an arms-dealer, though he was never arrested and tried, let alone convicted.

He was a rich man, and like Bruce, he hadn't really worked for his money, he came into it, and kept it increasing. Batman inferred that this was by buying and selling the best weaponry. This was the guy who was supplying the Joker with his bombs and his guns, Batman was sure about it, but he didn't know how to catch him.

"Master Wayne," Alfred called, as he came up to him at his computer.

"Yeah Alfred?"

"This arrived for you while you were out, it's an invitation to the grand opening of the bird exhibit at Gotham's Museum of Natural History. Shall I dispose of it?"

"No, I think I'm gonna go to that, when is it?"

"Tomorrow sir. Actually, I suppose it would be today, considering that it's 3 in the morning,"

"Okay, could you RSVP for me please?"

"Absolutely sir,"

"Thanks Alfred,"

A bird exhibit was the place to find this Penguin guy, and Bruce Wayne was going to put a face to a name.

Joker's Hideout

Rachel was tied up in a room that was pitch-black. She couldn't help, but think that if she had taken a different route home, she wouldn't be in this mess. She resolved that if she survived, she would never take the subway again.

A door opened into her room, and two thugs in clown masks picked her up and carried her into a room with lights all around, like a television studio.

"Ms. Dawes, thank you for joining us," said a maniacal voice. She looked around to find the source, it didn't take long to spot him. The Joker. His make-up was on and, sure enough, there was a camera pointed at the area he and Rachel were standing in.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get you in sooner dear, but don't worry, you don't have any lines," He smiled, and his grin sent shivers down Rachel's spine with a magnitude she had never felt before, she would have spit on him, but the tie-up job was complete with a gag. "All you have to do, my dear, is lie on that desk and look terrified!" he cackled.

The thugs laid Rachel on his desk. She began squirming.

"Don't squirm too much dear," Joker warned. "If you fall off, I'd hate to have to clean up the blood!" He shrieked with more laughter.

She looked around the desk. Spikes, EVERYWHERE, she stayed absolutely still, eyes-wide, looking in the direction of the camera. Why was this happening to her?"

"Are we ready?" Joker asked the air in front of him.

"Yeah boss,"

"Then, here we go! LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION!"

The Bat-Cave

Bruce had just taken off the Bat-suit, since he was just going to wait to catch Penguin until he met him later that day. He walked over to the television he had installed that was running CNN. He was about to turn it off when.

"Good evening once again Gothamites!" The Joker had interrupted television signals once again. "I saw the news this evening which means that I know you're still alive Batman!"

'Well there goes my edge,' Bruce thought.

"So Bat-brains, I have something to show you!" He stepped to the side, and Bruce saw his worst fear come to life. Rachel was tied up, at the hands of a lunatic. "Check, Batman! Your move,"


	8. Laugh in the Face of Fear

Navar

A/N: I won't be able to update as much for a while because school started. I'll try to get multiple chapters typed each weekend so that I can just post them during the week. As for this chapter, it's just kind-of filler, so that the story keeps being read.

To FalconHorror: Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather do this on my own. Ideas are always helpful, but the story seems to be writing itself after I get into a chapter enough. Hey, if you could read my other story (Apocalypse on Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends) and review it, that'd be great!

To Spyden: I'm glad you're liking this so far, and I didn't even realize the whole 'God-scene' thing . sorry about that… Like I told FalconHorror, the story just seems to write itself.

To the readers that aren't FalconHorror or Spyden: Reviews would be much appreciated, I happen to be a fan of constructive criticism.

Laugh in the Face of Fear

Joker's Hideout

Joker sat at his desk. He was enjoying his struggle with the Batman. So many opportunities for a laugh were accompanying it. While his group of underlings went about working on the phases of his plot, he would sit in solitude and think about an array of different matters. This time, it was how his mind had twisted to become a comical killing machine.

The Narrows: Two Days Before the Gas

He had arrived in Gotham as his ending point of a long career of criminality. His plan had been to stay for a year or two, suck what was left of the city dry, and retire somewhere the United States government couldn't touch him.

He was a Jack-of-all-Trades. His laundry list was quite extensive: homicide, manslaughter, grand larsony, arson, illegal gambling, dealing illegal drugs, and he had sold information about airline security, having flown quite a bit himself, and being quite observant, to a terrorist agency for quite a bit of money.

He had found an old dentist's office when he got to the Narrows, and decided to stay there, figuring no one would come to look at it to buy, and if they did, he could just kill them and no one would care.

The next day he began to gather thugs and goons to do his dirty work for him. He was more than capable of doing it himself, but why do that, when he had a brain that could be much better spent going over plots of evil?

The day of the nightmare came. He had heard that a bat-man was beginning to stop Gotham's crime, as if such an effort could be accomplished. He was editing and tailoring the final steps of his plan when he heard the disruption outside. Policemen swarmed the streets of the Narrows, tackling escaped lunatics in the streets. He saw the monorail pull into the station, and saw people loading something onto it. Then he caught his first glimpse of the winged terror, Batman. He was fighting a few people on the platform. Joker, at that point Jack Napier, couldn't see details because of a strange mist surrounding the area. The monorail began to move.

His door burst open, a man in an orange jacket being chased by a police officer came in, and acted as if they didn't know Jack was their, the truth was they didn't. They ran by him into the room where the dentist had done his operations, the room with the laughing gas. He heard gunshots, and several explosions, the smell of laughing gas caught his nose. The room began to look like a funhouse. Then another smell mixed, a floral-type smell, mixed with some sort of narcotic. Fear washed over him, followed by uncontrollable laughter. A combination of gases that should have killed him, only made him a madman.

The Joker's Hideout

"Boss!" someone yelled. Joker jerked out of a trance.

"What?!"

"What do you want us to do with the girl?"

"Put her back in her cell, until the bat has caught on,"

Rachel's Cell

Finally understanding what was going on, Rachel was terrified. She was bait so that this Joker guy could get his hands on Batman… Bruce. He was obviously smart, a genius, but his thugs were just the opposite. She still had her cell phone in her back pocket. She got it, although her hands were bound behind her back, and managed to thread her legs through the gap between her arms. She typed a text-message.

"_Bruce, I'm alive, don't do anything rash. This guy is a genius, but you can beat him. Take your time. –Rachel,"_

She hit send and then began to plan out her escape.


	9. Homicide

-Navar

A/N: Okay guys, I've figured out how to keep the story moving, though still not at as fast of a pace as it did over winter break, especially with the school musical coming up. I'll be writing out the chapters during the week when I have time, and elaborate when I type them… that should work. Here's Chapter 9!

Homicide

The Streets of Gotham

Bruce was sitting in the back of his Rolls bathed in an array of emotions. He was feeling anger, fear, guilt, depression, and above all, curiosity. How did the Joker know about Batman's connection to Rachel? He combed his mind for a possible answer. He couldn't find a single one, except… Henri Ducard. When Batman had broken the window on the train, it wound up face up in the crash. It was possible for Ducard to have jumped out and saved himself, especially with his level of expertise. Bruce dreaded this possibility because if Ducard was alive and feeding the Joker information. That would mean that the clown knew everything, everyone he was close to, including…

"Alfred," Bruce said out loud.

"Yes, sir?"

"I need you to accompany me into the exhibit,"

"As you wish, Master Wayne. May I inquire as to why?"

"Ducard may still be alive. If he is, he's working with the Joker, who now knows who I am, and who's close to me. I don't want anything bad to happen,"

Alfred was silent for a moment. "Sir, why do you think that? Isn't Mr. Ducard entirely against anything criminal?"

"Yes, but remember what Crane said? Joker is going to destroy Gotham and turn it into his own personal playground. Destroying Gotham was Ducard's main goal. Besides, who else knows about Rachel and the true identity of Batman?"

"Well, no one I suppose,"

"Exactly, and Ducard knows about you too,"

"Understood, sir. Wait, if the Joker knows about Batman's identity, and this Penguin fellow is supposedly an accomplice of his, wouldn't he know as well?"

"No, if Joker wanted to reveal my identity, he would have done it on TV,"

Alfred seemed convinced. They arrived at the museum thirty minutes later and had a valet park the Rolls. They walked up the marble staircase and in through the open 10 foot high redwood doors. They strolled up to the desk where they had 'THE LIST'. The woman at the desk was a blond, and she spoke with an extremely high-pitched New Jersey accent. The nameplate in front of her read "H. Quinzel".

"Name?"

"Bruce Wayne,"

"Well I know yours Mista Wayne, but I need to check your friend's,"

"He's not on the list, Ms. Quinzel,"

"Oh, call me Harleen,"

"Harleen, but I do believe my invitation was 'plus one'," He held out said invitation along with a folded up 50 dollar bill.

"So it does. Welcome to the Grand Opening of the 'Birds Throughout the World' exhibit, Mista Wayne and friend,"

"Thank you," Bruce had to smile. He had just used the very corruption that Batman was _fighting _to his advantage. Life was confusing. He and Alfred entered the exhibit. The assembly of the birds ranged from chickens to Bald Eagles and from pigeons to raptors. Bruce paid almost no attention to these; he was busy looking for the penguins.

Joker's Hideout

Rachel had managed to slip out of the ropes that bound her hands and immediately removed the gag from her mouth and untied her feet, which were in black high heels, since she hadn't had a chance to change them since the short dinner with Bruce that came to an abrupt end. After she was free she checked the door; locked. She leaned against a wall and slid to sit down. She took her heels off. They were so painful she would almost rather be walking on needles. She looked at them for a moment, at the heel specifically. She went to the side of the door with the hinges, and flattened herself against the wall, first making sure that her gag and ropes were in plain sight of the window. If the next person to walk through that door didn't die from what was coming to them, they were sure going to have a headache when they woke up.

Gotham Museum of Natural History

Bruce, after running into several acquaintances and meeting a number of people, had finally found the penguin section of the exhibit. Several people were standing around, listening to a short, fat man in a tuxedo. He had a long pointy nose, on which rested a pince-nez (glasses without the hooks behind your ear), in his mouth was a cigarette holder, he wore a large, black top hat on his head, and he used an umbrella almost like a cane. He looked remarkably similar to the stuffed birds on display behind him.

"That's him Alfred, the Penguin,"

"Yes I see him. What shall we do, sir?"

"Well, we need to be polite. Let's go introduce ourselves,"

"Quite,"

They walked up and joined the group of people listening to the little man. It took him a moment, but he finally realized that some new faces joined his audience.

"May I help you gentlemen?" He asked. He spoke with a cockney accent, just like Alfred.

"Hi, my name is Bruce Wayne. This is my good friend, Alfred Pennyworth,"

"Hello," Alfred said, a little uneasily, to the crowd.

"Am I correct," Bruce continued, "in assuming that you are Oswald Cobblepot?"

"Possibly, why?" the Penguin replied.

"Because, if rumors are correct, I'm looking on making an investment into what you have to sell,"

"You said your name was Wayne?"

"Yes, is yours Cobblepot?"

"Yes. Well, if you want to see a test run of my fine, uh, products, follow us," he said, indicating that the group around them was said 'us'.

So Bruce and Alfred followed the group of people, among them was Selena Kyle and Harleen Quinzel, to a back room, a VIP room.

Joker's Hideout

A thug had been sent to bring Rachel to the Joker. When he looked through the window, and saw that the gag and ropes that had been used to tie her up replaced the normal image of her lying there, he opened the door. This is unlike any competent thug. The competent thug would go and alert his employer of the situation; he paid dearly for his incompetence. He was struck in the head by the back end of a woman's high-heel shoe, and was out cold. Rachel, realizing she would be caught in an instant wearing a black dress covered in sparkles, decided to wear this thugs clothes over her own so that she had a better chance of escape. She snuck into the hallway and began to walk. She dodged through corners, trying to find a way out. She found her way to what she recognized as the Joker's stage. It was a room filled with machinery and old toys, with a platform off to the side. She realized that she must be in the broken-down toy factory in the Narrows and began running for the door.

The Joker had been lounging in his office and was waiting for his thug to return with Rachel Dawes so that he could extract any knowledge from her that she didn't get from Ducard, namely Batman's identity. All that Ra's had told him was that Ms. Dawes would be a substantial upper hand over the Caped Crusader. Ra's happened to walk through the door that moment.

"Hello Mr. Ghoul! How can I help you today, do you want a free smile?" he began to laugh his head off.

"Now is not the time for humor, Joker. Batman hasn't taken the bait yet,"

"Because he's wallowing in despair, most likely. Ooh just picturing the possibility of it tickles me with laughter! Besides, I just asked one of my goons to bring Ms. Dawes up here for some additional leverage over the Bat. In fact, it was a little too long ago, I think I'll check on what the hold-up is. Billy, this is Joker, WHY AREN'T YOU HERE WITH RACHEL YET?!" all he got in return was static. "Billy?!" still nothing. "Ra's, Red Riding Hood didn't stay at Grandma's, I think I'll have to show her my teeth, and how big they are," he gave a massive smile, and broke out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

The VIP Room at the Museum

Cobblepot had disappeared momentarily, and so Bruce acquainted himself with some of the people that were going to buy from the Penguin.

"The name is Edward Nygma, Mr. Wayne. I don't have a use for guns; I use intellect as my weapon. No, I was actually looking for a specific type of cane. You see, I am particularly fond of riddles, and this Cobblepot fellow supposedly has a golden cane with the shape of a question mark on the top," Nygma had orange hair, and he wore a green suit.

"Doctor Victor Friez, Mr. Wayne. I specialize in cryogenics, and there's supposed to be a gun-type thing that shoots out liquid nitrogen. I'm trying to get my hands on it so that I can tinker with it, and use it in my research," Dr. Friez was bald, about six foot three, and wore a dark blue suit, with an icy-blue tie.

'So,' Bruce thought, 'either both of them are EXTREMELY good liars, or not all people that buy from arms dealers are bad-guys. He proceeded to talk to Harleen Quinzel.

"Well, firearms have always kind-of scared me, but I heard this Cobblepot guy has connections to the Jokah. He just FASCINATES me. See, I'm studying psychology, and the fact that this Jokah fella doesn't have any remorse for these killings, and actually feels the opposite, being joy, makes him a wonderful subject for my term paper and the best way to make it good is to have a personal interview"

"I must admit," Nygma added, "His strategy is one that Batman hasn't been able to crack, and I do admire how he used a riddle, though a rather poor one, to set out his plot,"

"I don't like that Joker character," Friez contributed, "Anyone who can laugh about death is a sick freak that deserves to be tossed in jail,"

"Whoa, hold on Friez, you feel a little strong about that one. Why is that?"

"My wife has an un-curable case of MacGregor's syndrome. Every day for her is a chance her vitals may go flat, even in her frozen state,"

"Well, I agree with the good Doctor on his earlier point, the Joker is a lunatic who belongs in a prison cell," Bruce said. Alfred was away from the conversation, so as to let Bruce investigate things.

Cobblepot entered the room carrying a large silver briefcase, followed by four thugs each carrying a similar briefcase.

"Mr. Wayne, I wasn't sure what you were looking for so I brought one of my best guns, and my latest battle-suit for you to have a look at. Mr. Nygma, here's your cane, capable of jamming radio and satellite frequencies, Dr. Friez, your liquid Nitrogen gun, Ms. Kyle, your running suit," When he pulled out Selena's suit, full body, complete with gloves, black, sleek, and shiny. "It'll keep you warm, and give you a boost of speed and strength when encountered by muggers on Gotham's streets. Now, Mr. Wayne," he continued, "Would you like to see the gun, or the battle-suit?"

"The suit, please,"

"State of the art. This suit is bullet-proof, tear resistant, and all of the basics. It also features a sonar system so that you can see as well in the dark as in the light, kind of like a bat," he chuckled. "Also cloaked from radar, and it has an actual cloaking device that acts like a chameleon. The suit will take on the appearance of your surroundings, complete with a cowl,"

"I'll take it, how much?"

"Four-hundred and fifty grand,"

"Well damn," Bruce said, slapping his pockets, "I don't have my checkbook on me; can I have your address so that I can mail you a check?"

"Here's my card," the Penguin said, offering it to him. Although Bruce was really going to buy the suit, Batman still needed the address so he could pay a little visit to the Penguin that night. They all left with their newly acquired belongings in the briefcases, their own little souvenirs, through the back so as to avoid the metal detectors. Bruce Wayne went home, and Batman went out.

Joker's Hideout

Rachel took out her phone and began texting a message to Bruce, but was interrupted before she could finish. A hand closed around her phone so quickly it caused her thumb to squeeze the SEND button, a white hand, with rotting fingernails, she looked up.

"Going somewhere, dear?" the Joker asked.

Cobblepot Manor

The Penguin crashed in front of his television, having just received a phone call that the Joker would be interrupting everything again that night. He changed the channel to CNN, who was reporting on the progression in the Joker case. Basically, they used a bunch of fancy words to say there wasn't any. He felt a slight breeze and turned to see an open window. He went to close it, but was grabbed by something...

"BATMAN!" he yelled.

"Where is the Joker?!" Batman growled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! Why are you harassing me in my home?!"

"I'll ask the questions, you just give me some good answers! Now whe-," Batman was interrupted by a voice.

"Yes Gothamites, it's me again. Your 'Clown Prince of Crime' to quote the Gotham Times. I'm now here to inform you that your Bat-friend has failed to save one of you. One of you that was very close to his heart," he stepped aside. Rachel was hanging behind him, her face white, and a smile across her face. "Don't worry Batman, apparently, she died HAPPY!" he began to screech with laughter, and the signal cut back to CNN, the reporter was silent.

Batman stood shocked, but he wasn't Batman. At that moment, he was Bruce Wayne wearing the bat-suit. He had dropped Cobblepot in his amazement, and was standing in front of the massive open window.

"Terribly sorry about that chap," he heard the Penguin say, "but don't worry, you'll be joining her soon enough," with that, he shot Batman in the stomach with an umbrella. Batman fell out of the 2nd story window, and hit the Tumbler, which was below it.

A/N: Okay, so the VIP room in a museum was weird, and I used the name of the sickness Nora Friez has from Batman and Robin, but, other than that, I don't think this was too cheesy. The villains set up in this chapter will most likely not be appearing in this fic, but there might be a sequel in which they are minor villains. R&R please!

P.S. For the rest of the week, I'll be working on Apocalypse, so the next chap for this story probably won't be up until next week.


	10. Two Sides: Depression and Fury

A/N: Hey everybody… I hope you like this fic, but it's coming to a close within these last two chapters. Don't worry, I've already begun planning a sequel and a possible branch off of that sequel.

Special thanks to FalconHorror for helping me clean up this chapter and for following my story so long. Also thanks to Spyden for great tips and for giving me the ability to stop using 'God-lines' for the most part.

Two Sides: Depression and Fury

Wayne Manor: In the Process of Reconstruction

Bruce woke up, but kept his eyes closed; all of his memories of the previous night still vivid in his mind.

Rachel was dead.

The woman he loved had just been murdered by a lunatic who thought everything he did was funny. If only he had fought harder, worked faster, stayed with her the night she got kidnapped rather than rushing off because of some newsflash, she would still be alive. It was his fault, Batman was consuming him. She had been right; Bruce Wayne never came back from his journey. This symbol he had created came back instead. He was disgusted with himself. He had let Batman use _him_, rather than the other way around. He opened his eyes to see that he was in the reconstructed guest room in the bed, with bandages around his abdomen. He attempted to move and realized that he had forgotten about being shot by Penguin and falling out the window onto the Tumbler, he was in an extreme amount of pain.

"I see you've woken up, Master Wayne. Quite a fall you took, sir."

Bruce had a flash back to falling down the well. The bats. He had become his own fear and pain, leaving the true Bruce Wayne behind. It cost him a good friend and his best chance at happiness in many years.

"Yeah… how am I still alive Alfred?"

"Well, I noticed that you had a bullet in your stomach and, not being able to explain where it came from to a hospital, I called Lucius Fox, he took it out. He also did the honors of taking the Tumbler to Wayne Tower until you were physically able to use it again, sir."

"That's two times I owe you guys my life you know."

"Well, consider _us_ even Master Wayne. From how much I know you have done for the entire city, we are actually far from it, I still owe you quite a few times over," he said with a chuckle. "In addition, I do believe that Mr. Fox knows as well, even though you haven't told him."

"Well, if he doesn't know, he's pretty thick considering he's lent me all my gear. How long was I out this time?"

"Almost a week sir, the Bat-signal was lit for the past two nights."

"Great, that'll increase Dent and Gordon's trust in me," Bruce said sarcastically.

"Sir, did you hear about Rachel?" Alfred asked hesitantly, still unsure about whether he should have asked or not.

Bruce was quiet for a moment, still dwelling in his sadness.

"Yeah Alfred, I heard," he choked, tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm terribly sorry sir. I know how much she meant to you."

Bruce went silent and stayed that way until Alfred left the room. He waited a while, and got up, still in extreme pain. He was able to ignore it partly due to his training and partly because he was still in shock over Rachel. He got dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and went to the Bat-Cave.

The Bat-Cave

Bruce looked at his suit. The one he used to do his _real _business in Gotham City, the Bat Suit. It was the suit that had caused him to sacrifice everything… no, the suit was the mark of the symbol he had become. Was it the training in Asia? No, that only gave the beast skill. Was it his travels with criminal affairs? No, that wasn't it either. He traced it all the way back to his parents' murder, the reason for everything. His inner torment furiously bubbled up again. The Bat was a shield, something to hide behind. It called to him. He needed it almost like a drug. He shut the cabinet and walked over to his computer. His cell phone lay beside it. He picked it up and looked at the screen on the front. It read: "One New Message: **RACHEL**". He flipped the cover and read the message:

"_Bruce, Joker's hideout is the abandoned toy factory in the Nar"_

He clenched the phone shut, tears rolling down his cheeks. The clown would suffer the wrath of the beast within him. Bruce Wayne's pain was to be ignored, Batman was going all out.

Joker's Hideout

Joker was in a state of utter glee. The Batman was at his fingertips, ready to be crushed. Or possibly, he was going to retire, seeing as how he caused the death of someone who, according to Ra's Al Ghul, was very important to him. He had a phone on his desk in his office and saw he had a message on his machine. He played it.

"_Hello Mista Jokah, if you don't mind, I think I prefer Mista Jay. Anyways, my name is Harleen Quinzel and I would absolutely love to do an interview with you for my term paper. Your friend Mista Cobblepot has my address and phone number if you decide to do the interview. Until then Mista Jay."_

Joker chuckled and dialed the Penguin's number. "Mr. Pot, I want you to give my underlings the address of a Ms. Harleen Quinzel, she's going to be joining me for dinner, and maybe something else." He began to laugh uncontrollably.

The Office of D.A. Harvey Dent

Dent was furious. Between having no sign of the Batman for a week, and no developments in the Joker or Maroni cases, he was turning out to be a bad district attorney. He should've known from the start that he couldn't leave the crime in the city to some nut in a costume. He put brown make-up on his face to make it look like dirt, and tore up his sleeves. He put on a pair of fingerless gloves and took to the streets, looking to put an end to at least one of his cases.

Wayne Tower

Batman found the Tumbler easily, and took it to the streets. He drove and the cars seemed to part, welcoming the return of the Batman from his week-long absence. He drove to the bridge that would lead to the Narrows; it was raised. He could take the time to go to Lieutenant Gordon to get it lowered, or he could try the new toy Fox gave to him. He chose the latter, and the Bat-Boat powered its way across the river into a cave in the side of the island known as the Narrows.

Gotham's Criminal Underworld

Harvey Dent was huddled by a can-fire listening for anything that would lead to Maroni.

"But the boss said that we needed more people before we started our war against Gotham," he heard. He spun his head and saw two men in conversation three feet behind him. He walked towards them.

"Yo, you guys lookin' for an extra man? I'm lookin' for some money," he said.

"What's your name? You look familiar," said the taller thug.

"John Smith, what the hell does it matter? You need another guy or what?"

"Well, yeah, but maybe we should take you to the boss, he makes the final call on who joins this operation."

Dent smirked. Not only was he being taken to Maroni's hideout, he was going to be able to hear his plot.

Joker's Hideout

Harleen Quinzel was at home, watching the news to see if her beloved Joker would make an appearance, when the doorbell rang. She turned the television off, got up, and walked to the door. She looked out the peephole and saw two men in suits outside, she chained the door and opened it.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked.

"We think so. Are you Harleen Quinzel?"

"Yes sirs."

"Our boss wants to see you."

She momentarily panicked, but then realized that the Joker could be their boss.

"Just a moment." She shut the door, unchained it, put shoes on, and reopened it. They escorted her to a car. They drove until they reached the bridge to the Narrows, still raised. One of them said: "We've got her," into a walkie-talkie and the bridge lowered itself. She couldn't believe she was about to meet the Joker himself.

They pulled into a make-shift parking space in front of the abandoned toy factory and she got out. They went inside and she was taken to what she recognized as his stage. Then she saw him, in all his glory. The dark-green hair, the white skin, the black lips, the giant grin, the purple suit, all of it was there.

"Hello dear," he said. She was speechless.

"I daresay you know who I am, and you are Harleen Quinzel, the involuntary volunteer for my little experiment," he cackled continually for five minutes straight.

The Hideout of Boss Salvatore Maroni

Salvatore Maroni, age 54, was sitting at his desk enjoying a martini. With the clown distracting Gotham, he would be able to easily smuggle drugs and weapons in, and then he could start his master plan. Life was good, but in case his followers got sour, he had a shot glass full of acid on his desk. He heard a knock on his door.

"Enter." His two best thugs walked in and were accompanied by what would seem like a bum, at least to anyone to whom memorizing a face wasn't important.

"Well hello, Mr. Dent," he said. Dent looked shocked as the thugs grabbed his arms.

"Dent? I _knew _the face was familiar!"

"So, Mr. Dent," Maroni continued, "you fooled my thugs, and I refuse to believe that you wanted to join my little operation, so I can only assume you wanted to bust it. Too bad, now Gotham will have to find yet another district attorney."

Dent worked fast, he broke his right arm away from the thug on the right and whipped out the gun he had concealed in the back of his pants. He shot the thug on the right who was baffled by the escape and immediately turned and fired on the thug to the left. Both fell with gunshot wounds in the head. He pointed it towards Maroni who was a little surprised, but not shaken by the gun in his face. Dent pulled out a coin with two heads sides on it, one was scratched up.

"Heads, I'll take you to jail and you'll never see the light of day. Tails," he showed the scratched side, "and I'll blow your brains out right here." He flipped the coin and caught it, and looked at his hand. As he opened it, he felt liquid splash across the left side of his face and it began to burn. Maroni had thrown the acid onto him. He dropped the gun and clutched his face stumbling out of the office, a man in a black mask walked in after his departure.

"Everything alright, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, Roman, everything is just fine."

Joker's Hideout

Harleen Quinzel had been subjected to many tests and they all flashed through her mind as she lay in her new bed. Gas, lots of laughing gas, and fear, fear that she would lose the Joker now that she had him. Her door opened up and the Joker walked in.

"How are we after our little game of operation? I hope I didn't make your nose light up!" He began laughing hysterically. He escorted her to a bathroom. On the way, she looked down at herself. She was in a red and black, one piece, full body suit complete with gloves and feet. Still dazed she felt on top of her head, something was clinging just above her ears, a jester hat. When they got to the bathroom and she looked in the mirror, she would have screamed, if she was capable, she found it funny. Her face was white, with a bandits mask spirit-gummed to her eyes and she had black lips, which curved sharply upwards into a smile.

"Now," Joker said, "I think a little bit of a name change is in order my dear. You now get to be; Harley Quinn."

Harley laughed because it was all she could do. She was now just like the Joker, and she began to like it.

A/N: Okay, so Dent's transformation has begun, Harley Quinn is introduced, and BTW, for those of you that didn't know, Roman is Roman Sionis (The Black Mask) yet another Batman villain. Please R&R! Next chapter will be the last! Batman will confront Ra's yet again and… **_the Joker!_**


	11. Final Confrontation

A/N: And here we go, into the last chapter of the story. This has been an experience that I have thoroughly enjoyed and I hope those of you still reading enjoyed as well. After this chapter, I think I'll have a little fun and post a list of who I think should play the particular roles from this story in the style of Begins. Now: fasten your seatbelts, and get ready for the ride that is the final chapter of The Dark Knight!

Final Confrontation

The Narrows

Batman was perched atop a building near the abandoned toy factory in a crouch, examining Joker's hideout thoroughly. He learned the positions of all of the guards. He was ready for anything. He knew that Ra's Al Ghul was probably in there as a final guard on his way into the clown. He closed his eyes and focused on his anger, sealing it away so that he could use it in his last two battles of the evening.

Having it sealed, he launched himself from the rooftop and spread his wings, landing on the overhang in the delivery area. The goons beneath him watched the streets, but not the skies. Batman swooped silently through the shadows and landed on one of them with full force, knocking him out cold. He picked up the other and threw him through a nearby window. He continued through the double doors ahead of him into the warehouse.

Four men with Uzi's were waiting for him on the other side and opened fire when he walked in. He immediately used his grapple gun to shoot towards the ceiling and hide in the shadows. He watched them all turning around, watching for movement. One of them fired shots in the opposite corner of the ceiling from where Batman was. They all looked in that direction and he swooped into the one closest to him, sending the man crashing to the floor. He elbowed one of them in the gut, kicked another into wooden crates, and spun the one in front of him around to head-butt him.

The doors ahead of him that he knew led to the main hallway opened and two men, seven feet tall and around three hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle walked in. Batman panicked momentarily, going back to the ceiling to plan out his move. He realized from the BOOM that followed him on his way up that they were equipped with shotguns. They were close-range guys. Batman smirked and swooped behind them towards the door, throwing a ball full of ninjitsu powder at their feet. It exploded causing a giant cloud of smoke. They made loud protests to the noise and the vision-blocking smoke. So much so that Batman was able to pinpoint their location and threw two batarangs into the fray, stabbing them both in what he hoped weren't lethal areas. Through his anger he still felt an overwhelming sense of justice, and didn't want to become what he was fighting.

He continued into the hallway. He wasn't met with any resistance until he got to what he recognized immediately as the Joker's stage.

This was the place where Rachel died.

The fury came back; full force. It bubbled and frothed within him. He began to bloodlust, wanting the Joker dead.

Just as Batman was about to lose control of his shelled anger, he gathered it again, and just in time as the doors opened and six men surrounded him, none of them wielding weapons. Batman thought it odd that they thought they were a match for him in hand-to-hand combat. As they closed in, he sweep-kicked trying to take the legs out of one of them, he jumped and a fist from the opposite direction smashed against Batman's head. He rose from the crouch and turned to the man who hit him. He recognized him immediately as one of Ra's Al Ghul's pawns; the black, bald one.

'Oh great,' he thought, 'six of the most well-trained fighters in the world at one time.'

He focused his energy without releasing his rage. He sensed one coming in from behind him and to the left. He faked an attack ahead of him and spun to meet his assailant. A quick block with a flick of the wrist to send his blades into his opponents forearm grounded him.

'Five to go.'

He dodged a punch and caught the attacker's arm in a fluid motion and flipped him over his shoulder into the Joker's desk. The ninja didn't move.

'Two down.'

The four that were left were manageable. Batman leapt into one of them with such a force that they were both cast into shadow. Batman threw him back out onto the stage into the cameras that were set up. He went a little farther than expected and instead of stopping at the cameras, he flew into the seating and was out cold. Batman found himself hoping the ninja wasn't dead.

Now Batman was on his home field: the shadows. He kept in the dark and wired up to the ceiling once again. When he dropped in the direct center of the three remaining ninja, he picked one up and spun him around, knocking the other two unconscious. Batman bound them all to a pole using some rope that had once been used to operate the curtains. He heard clapping from the other end of the hall.

"Most impressive, Bruce; you have come quite a long way," a man said. It was a very familiar voice. Batman turned around and saw Henri Ducard standing at the other end of the room, a cane tucked under his arm. "I must say, I didn't expect you to beat those men at all, let alone in less than two minutes."

"So, you managed to escape the train."

"It's like I've been telling you, Bruce: You have to learn to do all that is necessary. Your compassion is a weakness that allows your enemies to live, and repeat their wrongdoings against you and whomever you are protecting."

"I won't take a life, Ra's."

"Which is why yours will eventually be taken, do you not see that? I thought you would have understood after your precious Rachel was ki-"

"Enough!" Batman exclaimed, his anger rising. He released it and launched himself at Ducard.

Ducard's limp was a theatrical deception to allow his opponents to underestimate him and he had thought that his prized student wouldn't do so… He wasn't disappointed.

As the Caped Crusader neared Ducard, he dodged to the right as Ducard dropped into a fighting stance and swung his cane like a sword which connected with Batman's guarded left wrist. Batman shoved the cane away and aimed his right elbow to Ducard's head and the left to his gut. The former swing was blocked expertly, but the latter connected, knocking the wind out of him.

"You're losing your touch," Batman taunted.

"Lucky swing," Ducard breathed. He got up and aimed a kick at Batman's kneecap. Batman dodged the attack, but a searing pain shot through the back of his head as Ducard's cane connected. He rolled out of the way of a possible follow-up blow and regained his composure.

Ducard had vanished.

Batman concentrated trying to figure out the direction his former mentor would have taken. Before he could find a probable direction he felt pressure on his back; Ducard had tried to stab Batman in the manner he had stated before burning his house down. He swung his right arm behind him and the spikes on his wrist-guard penetrated Ducard's right arm, damaging the muscles that would allow him to move it effectively. Ducard screamed in pain, and responded by using his left arm to knock Batman's kneecaps from the inside, causing him to fall. On the ground, Batman saw a worn away wooden beam close to the ceiling, he thought about zipping up to it, but realized that any sort of pull would bring it down. Ducard stepped in front of the beam, clutching his right arm, partially blocking Batman's view of it.

"So, it ends like this. You have no way to win. Two weeks ago I would have offered you the chance to live, but then you put me through that awful train crash. So, now you have to suffer the consequences." He planted a strong kick in Batman's side. A lesser man than he would have cried out in pain and possibly gone into shock from the intensity of the blow that landed on his already sore torso, but the Batman simply gritted his teeth and concentrated on grabbing his grapple gun. He shot it slightly to the right of Ducard's head. "You're not going anywhere Batman," Ducard said, pressing his whole body weight onto the crusader's upper body. "You never learned to do all that is necessary, and now you never will."

"Well," Batman retorted, "At least I improved on one thing."

"What's that? Stupidity?"

"Minding my surroundings." Batman pressed the button on his grapple gun that would retract the wire, and it broke the beam and sent it flying back towards Ducard, who was conveniently shielding Batman from any damage. Ducard turned and saw the beam a second too late, and was crushed underneath it.

Batman got out from under Ducard's limp body and took his glove off to check the pulse of his adversary… still alive. He left him under the beam and continued through the door that Ducard had entered from.

There was only one more enemy to face. The one who killed Rachel would be the final battle of the evening, or so he hoped.

Gotham Hospital: 2:22 AM

A large, dark room filled with flowers surrounded a man in a hospital bed; Harvey Dent. Bandages covered his face. The faint sound of the machine monitoring his heart rate echoed throughout the well-decorated medical prison.

The man sat up. His hands moved immediately to his face as he remembered what had happened that night. He began to peel them off of his face. One half of the bandages, the half covering the right side of his face, came off easily. The other half, however, stuck to his face, and it was painful with each pass of the bandage he made.

Eventually he got the entire wrap off of his head and looked at it. What had been previously completely all off-white was now dotted; half white, half red. He found a mirror by his bed and he picked it up. What he saw would have made any normal human pass out, but there were now two people living in one body, and the second had a strong constitution, and he took control of the body.

Dent's alter-ego put a suit on. He recalled that it had been brought earlier by Gordon for when he woke up. He decided he would have to change the color scheme slightly. He grabbed the scratched coin and noted that his gun was missing. He frowned, realizing he couldn't just walk out of the hospital shooting anyone that got in his way. He did, however, find a scalpel and figured it was as good of a weapon as any. He was about to walk out the door when Dent's consciousness rejoined his.

'You can't just kill those innocent people,' it said.

'What do you mean "you" Dent? You and I are the same person now.'

'Fine, _we_ can't just kill innocent people.'

'Why not? They were the ones that kept us alive during that pain. They were the ones that couldn't fix our face!'

'But they haven't truly done anything wrong, it's not justice!'

'What is justice, Dent? Who decides? I'll tell you who, fate.'

'So, what are you suggesting?'

'I suggest we flip for it. Heads,' Dent held up the coin involuntarily to the side without the scratches, 'we leave down the fire escape out that window, but tails,' he turned the coin, once again involuntarily, to the scratched side, 'we kill everyone that tries to stop us on our way out the front door, deal?'

'Deal.' Harvey Dent and his alter ego flipped the coin and caught it.

Joker's Hideout

As he moved into a room which he assumed was the toy assembly room due to all of the machines and unfinished toys. The lights were out in the room and as such, the only illumination came from streetlights outside.

"Joker!" he called. "I've found your hideout! Come out so we can talk!"

A high-pitched, female voice answered him.

"I'm sorry, but Mista Jay isn't in the mood for fighting at the moment, but if you'll leave your name and number, I'll be sure to let him know you stopped by."

The voice was oddly familiar, but Batman couldn't place it. As he began to search his memory, a silent assailant came from his left side and placed a high-heeled kick into the side of his head and he was sent to the floor. He saw a flash of red and black swing by: his attacker.

He made a mental note to send a thank you to the company that sent him his next ten thousand cowls quickly, because the graphite would have shattered from that impact.

Batman realized that this wasn't the Joker and had to seal the gate to his anger once again. No matter whom this red and black hit-and-run man… woman… person was, Batman was sure he didn't require his fury to beat him… her… them.

He focused. His realm was the dark. He heard the faint _whoosh_ of someone swinging through the air and moved out of the way of the direction he heard it from. He saw a red and black clothed leg pass in front of his face and he grabbed it and wrenched the body from the rope. He proceeded to slam it into a wall and the person was knocked out.

It was a pretty simple maneuver, and Batman wondered why the Joker sent this untrained girl to fight him. He looked at her face. It was as pale as the Joker's, and although the top of her head was covered in a mask, hat, and makeup, Batman recognized her face paired with a name: Harleen Quinzel.

"JOKER! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"

"Well, Batsy, that is a young woman, I believe about nineteen, named Harley Quinn who came to join me willingly; she just wasn't expecting the appearance improvement." Laughter bounced against the walls. To Batman, it seemed as though it was coming from every angle at once. "Actually, the procedure was risky considering what happened to your dear friend Ms. Dawes the first time I attempted it, but I considered the risk worth the task." More laughter echoed through the room: cold, cruel, evil laughter. A card came flying at the side of his face. Batman nearly laughed himself. A card? That was the best the clown could do?

As the card slid across Batman's cheek, it dug a gash into the side of it and halted its forward motion at the mask. He yelled in surprise and pain and took the card out of his cheek. It was metal.

A flurry of metal cards came flying at him, all from one direction. Batman zip-lined to the ceiling, avoiding the cards, and glided down to where the Joker was.

"Ah, so now I get to stare fear in the face. Well, your fear anyways, isn't that right, Batman?"

"Quit the charade Joker, you know my name."

"Actually, Bat-brain, I don't. Our mutual friend Mr. Ducard neglected to tell me that little detail or I would have been able to hurt you even more. No, all he told me was that Rachel Dawes was of high importance to you. However, if you're willing to share that little bit of infor-"

"ENOUGH GAMES, CLOWN!" Batman grabbed his purple jacket and lifted him into the air. He threw the lunatic against the concrete wall in front of him with almost lethal force.

"Oh, Batman, what's the matter? Are you not having fun?" Batman was silent as the Joker struggled to his feet, struggling the whole time. "You know, its pretty amazing, how much fear can do to a man without a sense of humor. It backs them into a corner, makes them curl into a ball and face everything so seriously, they lose the notion of WHY they're afraid of the thing." Joker's hand began moving to his chest to where Batman had just noticed a flower was placed. Bruce Wayne had seen his fair share of circus acts as a kid and reached out to grab the Joker's arm.

"Ah ha, so you're not going to let me have my joke, huh? Well, I guess I'll skip right to the _punch line_." He slammed a fist into Batman's wounded abdomen. His grip on the Joker loosened and the Joker slipped away and kicked Batman in the stomach like he would kick a door down. Batman stumbled backward and fell over the guard rail. "Until next time Batty, oh, and try having a little _laugh _every once in a while," he cackled and disappeared.

Wayne Manor: The Following Evening

The entire first floor of Wayne Manor had been reconstructed brick for brick, as ordered by Bruce. He was sitting in the library, which didn't have any books on the newly purchased shelves yet because they had all been burnt to a crisp in the fire. He was holding the arrowhead that he and Rachel had found as kids.

"Finders keepers," he whispered to the air around him. His charge the following evening had brought numerous criminals to justice, but not the one that mattered. From the window in front of him, he had a perfect view of the night sky, a sky which became lit by the Bat-signal. Bruce felt the burden of his self-given obligations for the second time in two nights and went to the room with the piano. He hit the sequence of keys and descended the elevator into the Bat Cave.

Gotham Police Department's Rooftop

Gordon stood on the roof, waiting for the dark avenger who had dropped the mastermind behind the fear-toxin attack.

"Lieutenant?" Gordon turned to see Batman standing by the bat-signal.

"Wrong again. It seems every time you and I are up here, I've received a promotion, but I promise this is the last one. The Governor looked into Gotham's crime rate and decided that Commissioner Loeb wasn't doing his job too well, and he selected me for the job. Now, all of Gotham's police will be off your back. My lead detective, Harvey Bullock, and I will be making sure of it."

"Good to hear."

"Well, I suppose you're wondering why I called you up here. Did you hear about Harvey Dent?"

"No."

"He showed up at Gotham Hospital last night with half his face melting. The doctors did all they could, but the left side couldn't be saved by them. They were in the process of flying in the best plastic surgeons this morning, when they discovered that he wasn't there anymore."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know. He left through a window, down the fire escape. I want you to find him."

"Are there any leads on who scarred him?"

"We have some evidence, but it's not strong and it's entirely circumstantial. The acid used to scar Dent's face was a special altered kind of Nitric Acid, Salvatore Maroni's supposed trademark."

"Do you suppose it will ever end, Gordon?"

"No, of course not. Evil always has to be around, or the good people wouldn't seem so good. It's a balance. However, you've proven me wrong about something."

"What?"

"Before you came around, I didn't think that just one man could make a difference. Now I know that he can."

Batman nodded. "I'm glad I could help," he said and he turned to leave.

"Just do me one favor?" Gordon asked. Batman turned around. "Don't become our next criminal mastermind." Batman gave a hint of a smile. He nodded again, jumped off the rooftop, and soared to the Batmobile.

**THE DARK KNIGHT**

A/N: Whew! 3400 words! MY NEW PERSONAL RECORD!

Thank you to all who read this story and especially to FalconHorror and Spyden for their helpful hints. Watch for the sequel: **THE CAPED CRUSADER! **In the meantime, you can take a look at who I think should play which part that hasn't been cast yet if you want!

Harvey Dent: Josh Lucas

The Penguin: Bob Hoskins

Selena Kyle: Scarlett Johannson

Harleen Quinzel: Brittany Murphy

Edward Nygma: Brent Spiner

Victor Friez: Patrick Stewart


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